


Silent as the night

by Prawnperson



Category: Don’t Starve (Video Game)
Genre: All the other characters are there too, F/M, Mild Angst, PLOT DEVELOPMENT BABY, Reunions, Walani is a good but confused gf, very mild profanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 12:40:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prawnperson/pseuds/Prawnperson
Summary: They haven’t seen him in a while.





	Silent as the night

There’s nothing more than a crash to signify their arrival.

In the dead of night, the survivors awake at the sound of a collision between something and the ground. It’s not too dissimilar to the noise Wheeler’s balloon made upon making contact with the forest, and it’s equally alarming.

Wilson, as always, leads the procession of survivors with on brand caution, lantern held cautiously in his hand as he navigates the inky blackness that is the constant at night. Willow follows along at his side, Wendy and Webber not very far behind, the poor spider boy clinging nervously to his companion. The rest of the group is equally apprehensive. They can hear chatter as they get closer to the source of the noise, trekking through a patch of birch nut trees in their makeshift pyjamas.

“Good Lord.”

Wilson rasps.

Sitting amongst a half destroyed cluster of trees are two hunched figures. Next to them is a crashed object, a machine that looks as though it’s a wagon that’s been carved into the shape of soft clouds, and still beside that is none other than Wheeler, seemingly tending to the two sat on the grass.

“I say-Jolly nice of you all to show up. Let me introduce you to the Calvary.”

With a flick of her hand, she turns towards the smaller of the two silhouettes, helping them shakily to their feet. The survivors let out a collective noise of disbelief as they stare.

“This is Wormwood. A blinding chap if a may say. Absolutely rip roaring with plants.”

Wormwood stumbles forwards, tripping rather exhaustedly into Willow’s arms. She barely manages to catch him, Wes immediately shooting looks of sympathy towards him.

“Oh dear. It seems that he’s on the lookout for some grub. Well, we can tend to that in a minute. I’d also like you all to meet our resident scientist, if you will.”

Wilson can’t find it within himself to say something as he, along with the others, observe the man in front of them fumble about on the ground, before finding what appears to be a pair of thick glasses, and putting them on.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Robert Wagstaff!”

Wheeler declares with a grin. The whole camp is to busy watching to notice WX-78 stay backwards, before turning and dashing back towards camp. Well, all except Walani.

———

They can hear him outside the tent. Walani’s words aren’t getting through to them, no, nothing is other than the sound of that voice. It’s older and frailer, but still his voice, definitely. It’s still him.

“Babe, please, what’s wrong?”

Walani whispers, rubbing her hand soothingly up and down WX’s back. The robot shudders, gulping down their furious nausea with an anger she’s never observed before.

“I-HE-I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS.”

WX mutters. They clench at the mug of cold cocoa in their hands, a leftover from Winter’s feast that’s doing nothing to ease their nerves. Walani can hear the already chipped china cracking. WX’s expression darkens, eyes narrowing to hollow black slits.

“HE LEFT ME. HE-OH, THAT-“

“Who did?”

With a deafening crunch, the mug shatters in their grip. They barely notice the pain of the chilly liquid seeping into their wrist joints.

“ROBERT BLOODY WAGSTAFF, THAT’S WHO.”

Walani makes a confused expression that WX would normally find endearing, but not this evening.

“YOU’D BE A RUBBISH GOALIE. THAT MAN INVENTED ME, WALANI.”

She lets out a borderline theatrical gasp, the kind that would make Wigfrid proud.

“He’s your dad?”

She whispers, as if the rest of the camp would notice with the questions they’re pouring the two newest members with outside the tent. WX gives a low grumble, pushing themselves towards the exit, only stopping whenever they feel Walani’s grip gently wrap around their upper arm.

“What are you going to do?”

She asks, eyes full of confusion. WX takes a deep breath in, shutting their eyes momentarily as the feeling of hurt betrayal in their chest subsides ever so slightly.

“I AM GOING TO TALK TO HIM.”

They reply, before making their way out, towards the fire pit.

Worm-whatever his name was is wrapped up in a Beefalo blanket, half asleep, with Webber’s toy rocket ship clutched weakly in his grasp. Wagstaff is sitting slouched beside the fire, bowl of soup in hand, almost as drowsy as the plant hybrid next to him. Just as WX remembers him.

They don’t announce their presence, and they don’t need to. The second they get close enough for their body to reflect the firelight, Wagstaff glances up. His eyes widen almost comically, even behind the thick lenses, and he drops the bowl in his hands with a clatter. The other survivors turn towards them, as does Walani, tentatively huddled behind WX.

“Is that...it can’t be...”

Wagstaff mumbles, adjusting his glasses with hands even shakier than usual. 

The camp falls silent, as silent as the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!!


End file.
